


this won't be easy (wouldn't have it any other way)

by aubadezayn



Series: Christmas Fanfiction Giveaways [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Asshole Dad's, Bottom Bucky, Consort!Bucky, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I-Could-Love-You, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Bucky Barnes, Prince!Bucky, Prince!Steve, Societal body standards for omegas, Top Steve, due to heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5736598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubadezayn/pseuds/aubadezayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://winterbarns.tumblr.com">winterbarns</a> requested for their christmas giveaway fic a:</p><p>"royalty / omegaverse fic with stucky? preferably with alpha!steve and omega!bucky in an arranged marriage because bucky, out of his siblings, is the only omega /and/ because their countries are feuding so an arranged marriage is seen as the only solution to an end to the war...an enemies to friends to lovers type fic would be great!! Also, I forgot this, but could you make it postserum!Steve / pre-WS!Buck?"</p><p>hope i did the prompt justice!</p>
            </blockquote>





	this won't be easy (wouldn't have it any other way)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barns_bucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barns_bucky/gifts).



> so this fic was supposed to be less than or equal to 4K and i ran with it to 7K lmao
> 
> i put a dubious content warning in the tags but i'll restate that here: as in all A/B/O fics that have sex during "heat" there is a mild dubious content. but Bucky consents during a period of lucidity and enthusiastically enjoys having sex with Steve, at no point feeling like it was non-consensual. there is also discussion of how their first time together COULD have been nonconsensual. there is also the dubious content of being in arranged/forced marriage with expectations of breeding (this isn't dubious to me but i'm covering the bases)
> 
> also i wished i had more time to give to Sam and Nat, but this fic contains Omega!Sam and Alpha!Nat.
> 
> also you should come talk to me on tumblr i'm [starspangledsteve](http://starspangledsteve.tumblr.com)

If there’s one thing Bucky hates the most, it’s that look of disappointment, surprise and disdain that passes onto a persons face the moment they find out he’s an omega. It’s not because there’s any deep hatred for omegas, they’re a respected necessary part of society. Some movements call omegas the backbone of our world. No it’s not disgust for omegas that causes that expression Bucky hates so much, it’s that he’s a rather…robust omega.

 

Omegas are frequently smaller, leaner, shorter. They don’t have much muscle mass, they’re easier victims of illness, and they certainly never reach 5 feet tall.

 

Bucky is almost 6 feet tall, has a good amount of muscle (though no one would ever describe him as burly), and he’s also, as he was once described derogatorily, “strong as a horse”. This means that people generally assume he’s a beta, or an alpha, or even an outlier, but rarely ever accept that he’s an omega.

 

“Are you sure?” they’d ask, as if he could forget such an integral part of himself. Like he could forget his eye color, or how many toes he has.

 

The King of Abareria has this exact expression when he is presented as the omega war offering to wed the King’s son, and prized Alpha. “This is the omega you offer as a truce, Richard? Do you think I will be fooled by a beta in omega pheromones?” The King steps off his throne down to where Bucky is kneeling next to his Father, and throws his arm out in a sweeping manner towards them.

 

“My son is a great warrior, a strong Alpha, he is my heir, and you would offer him this disrespect?” The King had agreed to meet with them reluctantly, only agreeing once he’d destroyed yet another of their outer towns. They’d been at war for three years, in which time Bucky had watched from the castle as more and more of their kingdom was conquered. It was obvious that Abrareria was more powerful militarily, and with enough time would devour their kingdom.

 

_In panic, Bucky’s Father had come to him._

 

_“James…” The King announced his presence quietly, entering Bucky’s chambers with the sweep of his robes and soft steps of boots. Bucky stood at the window, shivering at the cold wind but unable to look away from the flames. They were far away, past the walls of the kingdom, but Bucky swore he could feel their heat and smell the flesh._

_“Bucky.” He commanded, knowing he was stepping slightly past his bounds. But if he was right in why his Father had come here, then…he would take the chance for this small comfort._

_“My son…Bucky…they have reached the wall. Their King demands we relinquish control of the Eastern cities. We cannot give him that.” Father put his hand on the stone ledge Bucky was leaning against, palm up. In his palm was the locket his Mother had worn around her neck every single day, before her death._

_Bucky did not take it._

_He turned towards his Father, with a steely look in his eyes. “What can we give them?”_

_The King did not speak, but his eyes said everything his voice did not. Bucky turned away, staring in to the flames at the outskirts of his home rather than his Father. There was only one other thing that could possibly appease the King of Abrareria, and it was Bucky._

“I swear upon the gods, King Grant, my son is a pure omega. He is the only omega of my line. He’s more than worthy of your son.”

 

The King laughed, and Bucky grit his teeth hard to keep his mouth shut. It was humiliating to be down on his knees before their enemy, offered up like a present to a faceless macho Alpha and his arrogant Father.

 

“Worthy? You offer me your son as a present, so that I will not break down your doors and seize your kingdom.” The King raised one eyebrow and stepped down towards Bucky. Bucky refused to flinch, even as the King’s palm came down patting his head. “A desperate offering does not have much worth.”

 

Bucky wished only the worse for Abrareria and its King.

 

“Father!” Into the King’s Hall strode an Alpha, the only Alpha between their two kingdoms that shone so brightly with power. Bucky could smell him without looking, he could feel his body react…and he hated it.

 

Steve, the beautiful, shining diamond of Abrareria, went straight to his Father ignoring their guests. He was sweating, straight out sparring likely since the King had called the ceasefire, and Bucky hated him even more. Perhaps in another life, had he born a peasant in Abrareria rather than an unfortunate omega prince, he would see Steve how his people must see him.

 

He’d see radiant health and strength, and an Alpha that could provide. Maybe Bucky would see a husband he could love, not just serve. In this life though, he seen only a captor.

 

“We should not disparage their offering, imagine giving up Sam and how our kingdom would long for its lost omega.” Steve whispered to his Father gently, soothing the man’s prideful anger. Turning to Bucky and his Father Steve smiled, his teeth shining against his tan, flushed skin. “We thank you, King Barnes, and I would be honored to accept your son as my husband and omega.”

 

King Grant was not very happy with being stepped over by his son but nodded anyway and Bucky was suddenly flanked by two palace guards. They lifted him off the ground out of his kneeling position and his knees cracked. He struggled against their pull, suddenly afraid. He hadn’t said a proper goodbye, he wasn’t prepared.

 

“Sir, can we not have a moment?” King Barnes begged, his eyes wide and fearful at the sight of his son being taken so soon. 

 

“Of course you-“ Steve began to say.

 

“Steven!” The King snapped, stopping his son abruptly. “Take the boy to my son’s chambers. You can see him, Richard, after the ceremony.”

 

“Sir-“

 

“No more! I _let_ you keep your kingdom, Richard. In return you give me something worth the land lost, and I will do whatever I please with your offering.” The King turned to his son and gestured with his chin towards Bucky and the guards. “Get acquainted, you’ll be married at dawn.”

 

 

* * *

 

Despite the King’s order there is very little bonding after that. Bucky is taken away to the prince’s chambers, and made to wait for his chambermaids. It is hours of silence and wandering around the vast, barely lived in room, before the women come in.

 

He is exhausted mentally and physically, as out the window he can see the sun has long set, but he lets the women work. There is no point to fighting this, the King would let him walk straight out of the castle if he chose, but tomorrow there would be soldiers prepared to strip away his kingdom. For his Father, for his sister Rebecca, for his people, Bucky dons the traditional Abrareria wedding garb.

 

It’s a dress, of sorts. It clings to his torso but drops to the ground in bountiful folds of fabric. He’s told to put on a pair of loose pants, that once they’re on feel like just another part of the dress.

 

It clings to his arms and shoulders, where they are tough and heaviest from working alongside the people in his kingdom. As a prince he’d never had to work, but it was good for morale to see a prince as something like an equal. He’d do volunteering in the kingdom though, which helped him build up the little bit of frame he had. The top part needs to be altered to fit his biceps, which aren’t overly large but tempt the seams.

 

“Very, very wrong you are boy.” One of the older women mutters around a needle held between her lips. “No omega should be as big as you.”

 

“Not all omegas are the same.” He snapped. “Not every Alpha is built like a brick wall, so why should all omegas be little and frail?”

 

The old woman held up a hand in defeat and sighed. “We’re going to have to scratch this, ladies. He’s just too large for it and we don’t have time to make an entirely new gown.”

 

A younger, skinny girl who smells of omega pheromones holds up her hand and the old woman sighs again, gesturing for her to speak. “What if we use one of Sirs garments to alter the top. It’s only a small adjustment, and he has plenty of white shirts. It would be meaningful, but also effective.”

 

She’s obviously scared to have spoken up but after a moment the old woman nods slowly. “Yes, yes that would work. Still traditional, but new. Like this whole affair.” She looks him up and down before snapping her fingers. The women jump to work, and Bucky is forced to stand there for another hour as they measure, prod and prick him with needles.

 

A simple prince with simple dreams he’d never been one for showy clothing or truly embracing his place in the royal court. As the only omega he was often treated as the youngest, despite not being so, and his Father had given him the small freedom of wearing things he chose himself or skipping court discussions. This outfit was all types of flashy and royal and it turned Bucky’s stomach.

 

By the time the garment was done Bucky was exhausted, barely standing and being held up by one of the girls. He never got to see the final result before they removed it from him and led him to the bed.

 

“We’ll be back in a couple hours to prepare you for your wedding. Sleep well, consort.” 

* * *

 

At thirty minutes to dawn he is woken by the quiet omega woman with the hair like straw. She eases him out of bed and into the garment, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and his eyes dry with crust. It’s surreal being in Abrareria, but its even more surreal knowing his groom waits in the main chambers of the castle.

 

He will be married within the hour, and he feels nothing. He knows little about his soon-to-be husband besides his kill count and political stance. Bucky lets himself be cleaned and pampered until they turn him to the mirror and he barely recognizes himself.

 

The dress is surprisingly masculine since they’ve altered it to fit his shoulders and arms very snugly. The bottom flairs out. His hair has been lifted from his forehead with wax and is curved gently at the front, his eyes have been smudged with light red which makes him look all the more tired. He looks like photos of Abrarerian brides, not like himself.

 

He turns away from the mirror sharply and the old woman claps her hands.

 

“Let us get this show on the road, then?” It’s rhetorical as she’s ushering Bucky out the door the very next second.

 

They lead him to the main chambers and he’s about to run. He can feel flight in his legs. He can feel the need to be home in his stomach. But he sees before his eyes those roaring flames on the outskirts of the kingdom, hears the screams of his people and knows what has to do.

 

When they push open the door, after his short announcement, he sees Steve. Steve is dressed sharply in his own Abrarerian outfit, and when he makes eye contact with Bucky he smiles just a little bit. Like they’re somehow friends in this, like maybe this wedding is not a sham.

 

Bucky looks down at the roses in his hands the entire time, and tries to erase that tiny golden smile from his mind.

 

* * *

 

Weeks later Bucky has seen and spoken to his husband approximately three times. The first when they spoke their vows, though Bucky had directed them to Steve’s shiny boots instead of his face. The second when Steve had delivered him to his family immediately after the ceremony, in a side-chamber, for their final meeting before his Father went home and he stayed behind.

 

The third was perhaps the most important.

 

“Um, hi.” Steve had entered with, stepping into Bucky’s view from where he’d been sitting and staring out the window. He was in the chambers he’d been in before the wedding, which he had assumed were Steve’s but Steve had never come in. This was the first time.

 

The blue of his tunic energized the blue of his eyes and it infuriated Bucky how they made his stomach tighten. Steve was of course the perfect Alpha, strong, bountiful, made of spun gold painted over steel. Bucky’s body knew all this and it made his blood rush, it made his head spin, and it did something even worse. It _prepared_ him and he loathed knowing that Steve could almost certainly smell it.

 

Bucky did not return the greeting, staring at a spot on the floor instead.

 

“I…I’m Steve.” A hand was thrust into Bucky’s face and he snapped back in the chair affronted. “Sorry, I…I know we said our vows already but I don’t think we’ve ever formally been introduced, James.”

 

“It’s Bucky.” He snapped without thinking. Steve smiled, entirely unlike the soft small smile of their wedding day, this time a smug grin.

 

“I know.” He grinned brightly, teeth practically glinting in the light.

 

“I was hoping that you’d come with me somewhere, just for a little while. Since our marriage, I haven’t exactly had the time to properly celebrate us, or even _properly welcome you_.” Damn the omega part of him, as it reacted to the slight intonation on “properly”. His body certainly knew what proper welcome it craved, but his rational mind was hung up on “celebrate”.

 

“Celebrate?” He sneered, standing up and finding that Steve didn’t move away. Nonetheless Bucky leaned a little closer, hampering down any arousal his body was trying to light and bit words through gritted teeth. “ _Prisoners_ don’t celebrate.” He stepped away, to the opposite side of the room.

 

“You’re not a prisoner, Bucky.” Steve sighed from behind him. “You’re my husband, my consort…my omega. I want to take care of you.”

 

“I don’t need you. I didn’t _want_ you.” Bucky snapped, crossing his arms and glaring blankly at Steve who flinched imperceptibly. “I may be the omega whose womb was sold for war, but I’m not the only one who was pawned off into a marriage. What happened, perfect prince Steven? You couldn’t find an omega to marry you without having to bribe them into it?”

 

Steve’s jaw tightened and Bucky followed the tension down to clenched fists. He’d upset Steve, and maybe in another life that would be a bad thing.

 

Before Bucky could register it, Steve was out of the room, the door softly shutting behind him.

 

Bucky wishes he had slammed it.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s a span of three days where Bucky wanders around the castle, gets to know the grounds and sleeps. He’s not allowed in certain wings, he’s not allowed out of a 10 acre range of the castle (which is all grounds and no people), and he rarely sees Steve. He’s headed to dinner, led by two silent women dressed in simple white uniforms, when he sees Steve speaking to a black man. Steve’s in his formal attire but from their body language it’s a casual conversation.

 

Deep deep down, where all his omega hides inside, jealousy flares and then dies. It’s not as if he wants to be there with Steve, he likes their marriage just how it is separate as frequently as possible. But there’s still a burning in him, in the primal part of his body that doesn’t like Steve around anyone but him.

 

Especially since they still haven’t mated.

 

The ceremony complete his body expected an immediate mating, and possible pregnancy, but of course he and Steve had yet to consummate the marriage. He’d prefer if it stayed that way, but his body simmered at low arousal growing louder and louder with each passing day. He wondered idly if Steve felt the same gut-deep urge to rut…and if he was fulfilling it with other people.

 

Jealousy passes though, as do any negative emotions, and Bucky finds himself more apathetic than anything with his time in Abrareria. There’s nothing for him to do as consort, unless he’s just not being told. He wanders around all day, takes pointless naps when he’s not even tired, and he eats. He feels much like a cat, lazing in the sun waiting for its owner.

 

Finally, as all things do, the time comes for things to change.

 

The change is that when Bucky gets back to his chambers after dinner there is someone in his bed.

 

He’s no idiot, he knows exactly who it is. What he doesn’t is why after two weeks of solitude Steve has chosen tonight to disrupt it. So he does the only thing that he can think of, and he yanks the blanket wrapped around Steve hard enough to send the Alpha rolling to the hard stone ground with a yelp.

 

“Who-!?” Steve peered up at him sleepily, absently going for the shield and sword against the bedside table. “Bucky?”

 

“What are you doing in here?”

 

“This is my bedroom…”

 

“Oh really? Then why have you not slept in it the last three weeks?” Bucky asked, smirking at Steve and waiting for his next attempted lie. Steve glared at him, pulling himself off the floor and up onto the bed.

 

“It was suggested that I give you…space.”

 

“And what makes you think that three weeks is enough space?” Bucky stayed a careful distance away from Steve, wary of him as he stood up and went to the dresser. On top were crystal bottles filled with amber liquid, Bucky was never allowed to drink before.

Steve poured himself a drink, and threw back the glass. “Bucky...I can feel it. I know you can too.”

 

“I don’t feel anything.” Bucky denied nonchalantly, ignoring the way his blood rushed at being in a dark, intimate room with his Alpha. He’d been hard almost consistently for three weeks just smelling the musky scent of Steve all over the room.

 

“I’m about three days before my rut.” Steve said blankly, swallowing a large gulp of liquor with a grimace. “I can smell that your heat will start soon too. From there…”

 

“What are our options?” Bucky asked. Steve sighed.

 

“No heat or rut is truly satisfied by anyone other than their…beloved.” What a romantic, Bucky thought. “But there are ‘objects’ we can get you, and I will liked be locked in separate chambers across the castle for as long as the rut runs.”

 

“You wouldn’t take your pleasure with someone else?’ Bucky asked, honestly shocked. Omegas are taught they’re made for _one_ Alpha’s pleasure, but Bucky’s always known Alpha’s aren’t held to the same standard. He’s seen them rutting in corners, in barns, in abandoned rooms – never with the same person they’ve married and tied down. It had always been a major source of his anger and frustration with his orientation, being an Omega might not be so bad if he wasn’t the unappreciated broodmare of an Alpha.

 

“No!” Steve rejected the idea heartily, shaking his head rapidly. “I’ve…never. I would never without my One.”

 

“You’ve never rutted with another or…you’ve _never_ had sex?” Bucky’s been in a metaphorical chastity belt since he oriented as an Omega, but his brothers were having sex as soon as they became Alphas. It was no serious thing, and no one seemed to consider it strange, maybe in Abrareria they did things differently?

 

Steve was silent, turning away to shakily put down the glass.

 

“It’s late…” Steve finally says. “I can move rooms.” He started to gather his blankets, but Bucky stopped him, reaching out to grab the blanket. He shook his head, ignoring the uncomfortably pitiful squeeze of his heart at Steve’s surprised open expression.

 

“You can stay. If you touch me, I’ll kill you with your own shield.”

 

Steve smiled, teeth shining bright in the dark room. Bucky prepared for bed quickly, deciding against sleeping shirtless and instead dressing in a night gown and loose pair of pants. He crawled into the bed cautiously, careful to keep space between him and Steve as much as possible. Steve took up almost more than half of the bed, his shoulders only a few inches from Bucky’s and exuding heat.

The bed was warm and cozy from Steve’s previous sleep and Bucky couldn’t help but like it. The past three weeks had been cold and desolate, and had only made him miss home more.

 

He fell asleep quickly, enveloped in the scent of his warm, comfortable Alpha.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Bucky woke up wet. He hated himself the moment his eyes opened, and cursed his body vehemently before realizing there was an arm around him.

 

In the night they had shifted so that Bucky was on his side, and Steve was plastered hotly to his back. Whether on purpose or not, their bodies were flush against each other and Steve’s arm was over Bucky holding his pec in a tight cupping grip. Steve’s head was nestled in Bucky’s neck, hot air blowing over his skin in patterned breathing.

 

Bucky didn’t know what he hated more, loving the feeling of being in his Alpha’s arms or loving the feeling of Steve hard against his backside.

 

His body had obviously reacted to the proximity and to Steve’s own arousal, and he needed to get up before Steve awoke. Bucky tried to sidle out from underneath Steve’s arm but just barely managed to disrupt the grip on his pec before Steve snuffled violently in his sleep and pulled him back against his chest.

 

“No…sleep.” Steve ordered.

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. Even in their sleep, Alphas make orders.

 

“Steve…please let me up.” He pled, hoping that it would get through to Steve even through sleep. “Steve…”

 

“Shhhhh.” Steve hushed softly, lips pressing gently and tiredly to Bucky’s temple. Bucky froze, that warm blossoming feeling of endearment aching in his chest. His temple tingled where Steve’s lips had pressed so casually a kiss.

 

Bucky couldn’t take much more, his body leaking for Steve and his heart aching for more affection. Heat was coming, but the feelings of desperation were already strong. He needed Steve, but he didn’t want Steve. He couldn’t.

 

He wrenched himself away, startling Steve to open his eyes and roll onto his back.

 

Steve looked at him as Bucky rose, and he could feel his nightgown and pants were soaked, hopefully nowhere Steve could see. At Steve’s pelvis the blankets tented, and they both were aware of it by the tension in the room.

 

Instead of speaking, through the desire to was written all over his face, Steve rolled over and buried his face back into the blankets.

 

Bucky wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day, but he wouldn’t forget the feeling of Steve’s kiss.

 

* * *

 

Later Bucky is sitting on the terrace, looking out onto the land and attempting to read a book when the man he’d seen speak to Steve comes in and sits down. Bucky tries to ignore him, but the man coughs. And then coughs again. And then keeps coughing. As if he’d come out here to just clear his throat.

 

Bucky looks up to snap at him, but finds the man smiling wide at him. He closes the book, admitting defeat.

 

“Hi, I’m Sam Wilson.” Sam sticks out his hand and Bucky grudgingly takes it, shaking quickly. “You are…?”

 

“You know my name.” Bucky sighed.

 

“We’ve never been introduced. I’m not sure how your people do this, but when we meet new people we introduce ourselves.” Sam’s smile was unflinching. He wore simple but clean and professional clothing, like he worked alongside the royal council. Of course Steve’s only friend would be a part of the council. He’d probably never even met his own people.

 

“I’m Bucky Barnes.”

 

“Very nice to meet you.”

 

They sit in gentle silence for a few minutes before Bucky sees Sam look at him out of the corner of his eyes. “What?”

 

“Steve’s my best friend, and he’s a good man. I would hope you would…judge him not off his Father’s actions but off his merits.” Sam considered his words carefully.

 

“Are you saying that you think Steve and his Father wouldn’t agree on this situation?” Bucky asked, stroking the binding of his book. He could smell omega on Sam, and honesty, and that put him at ease.

 

Sam stroked his chin. “I think…Steve and his Father wouldn’t agree on many things.” He held up his hand in an oh-well manner and grinned, teeth shining against dark skin. “But enough about Steve and troublesome things, how are you liking Abrareria? I’m sure you’ve received a tour already.”

 

“I have not actually, I’ve wandered around the yards and seen the main halls of the castle but no one seems to care about making this place a home. They treat me more like a…chair, that’s needed in certain rooms at certain times and then needs to be moved again.” He still hasn’t been allowed to wander the castle, he’s escorted from room to room like a prisoner.

 

“Well, I think we should give you that tour.” Sam smiled and for the first time since leaving Abrareria, Bucky didn’t feel so alone.

 

* * *

 

After the tour of the castle, in which many chambermaids attempted to stop and collect Bucky, Sam said his goodbyes with promises to come back and have lunch another time. Bucky had smiled and laughed for the first time in Abrareria, and he’d almost forgotten why he was here until dinner when Steve was sat across from him at the table. Steve never ate dinner with him, but tonight he and a red haired maiden in a black dress and veil joined him.

 

“Bucky…” Steve acknowledged him quietly, looking down at their feet. “This is Lady Natasha, she’s a very old friend of Abrareria.”

 

Lady Natasha smirked, holding out her hand. “Hello, Bucky. I’m apparently a very old friend of _Abrareria_ despite being the person to deal with this little tyrant since childhood.”

 

“I was not a tyrant.” Steve smiled, still avoiding Bucky’s eyes as they sat down.

 

“If I was Queen during a game of Kingdom, you’d throw quite the tantrum.” She smirked at Bucky, the mischievous light in her hairs in contrast to the black veil over her face. “He always wanted to be King and Savior.”

 

“That’s because when you were Queen, Natasha you’d fire the guard and insist you could fight wars by yourself.”

 

“I could have, Stevie.” Steve smiled at her fondly, and Bucky was shocked. Lady Natasha exuded incredible alpha pheromones, which was uncommon but not impossible for women, but it was nearly as strong as Steve’s. They should have been at each others throats, especially with a technically unclaimed omega in the room.

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Bucky blurted out, suddenly remembering his manners. The veil and the black dress had been overshadowed by the incredible scent of Alpha, and the conversation, but as dinner was served Bucky finally noticed.

 

“Thank you.” Lady Natasha smiled, completely in contrast to the conversation. Bucky didn’t dislike her, but there was something about her that felt predatory and enigmatic. He doubted, for a brief impolite moment, that she had even lost someone.

 

Steve and he avoided looking at each other for the entirety of dinner, the feel of their bodies against each other still preeminent in both their minds.

 

After dinner, and more confusing conversation with Lady Natasha, they all stood up to leave and she stopped Bucky. “Bucky, if you would be so kind as to escort Steve. I would do it myself but I’m feeling rather faint and upset, I’d like to retire immediately.”

 

“Nat, I don’t need to be escorted.”

 

“Of course you do, you don’t want to be alone, Stevie. You either, Bucky.” Lady Natasha swept out of the room, her dress trailing behind her. Bucky started to leave, not waiting for Steve.

 

“She’s usually like that, I apologize.” Steve broke the silence as they climbed yet another staircase towards their chambers.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to say she’s _not_ usually like that?” Bucky asked, laughing once.

 

“I would, but she’s always like that.” Steve smiled. “We’ve been friends since childhood, and when we both oriented as Alphas she called herself Alpha 1 and me Alpha None.”

 

They lapsed into companionable silence after laughing more, and by the time they got back to the chambers Bucky was feeling rather good about the day.

 

Then they got inside and he seen the bed, and a wave of heat rushed over him so hard he blushed. He and Steve prepared for bed separately and silently, only making eye contact when they both approached the bed.

 

Bucky got in, pulling the blanket to his chin and turning on his side back to Steve. It felt like an invitation after this morning but he couldn’t look at him. Not with the boiling rage of heat growing in his pelvis. He was wet, and hard and he knew. He knew that tomorrow it would hit and Steve would either spend it here, tending to him as _husbands_ do, or they’d spend it apart and likely never get past this awkward stage.

 

Bucky falls asleep thinking of Steve’s lips, and dreams of them all over him.

 

 

The next morning his heat has not hit, but he feels it on the precipice. He knows Steve feels it to, because he wakes to Steve already out of the bed. He’s not gone from the room though, he’s leaning against the window breathing heavily, fists clenched.

 

“Bucky…”

 

“Not yet, please.” Bucky begs off the conversation, hurrying to hide in the bathroom. He can’t talk about this, he can’t decide yet. Not while he’s still _almost_ in heat.

 

* * *

 

 

When he comes out, Steve is dressed and waiting for him. “I want to show you something.”

 

Bucky’s too weak, both physically and mentally to fight him. He just gets dressed, feeling uncomfortably warm and itchy in his clothes. Steve waits for him politely, standing by the window still to breathe in clean unscented air.

 

“What is it that you want to show me?” Bucky asks, keeping on one side of the hallway while Steve walks close to the opposite wall. It would be obvious to anyone who saw them that they were avoiding each other. They might not know why until the heat actually hit, right now only Lady Natasha might smell it.

 

They walk through the castle towards the West, where Bucky had only briefly gotten with Sam.

 

_When they’d reached it, Sam had stopped him. “We don’t have to go up there.”_

_“Why not? I am I not allowed?”_

_Sam had laughed, and shook his head. “You are allowed anywhere you’d like, but that’s just the royal wing. The King’s chambers are up there.”_

_“But Steve’s room is nowhere near here.”_

_“He lived with the King and Queen until he was 18. Then they moved him to the East Wing so he was more independent and had more privacy.”_

“Where are we going, Steve?” Bucky asked, feeling faint and nervous. That might be because he was alone with Steve, but more likely because the heat was coming closer and closer.

 

“I wanted to show you when we first got married, but understandably you weren’t very happy with me.” Steve led Bucky up a narrow set of circular stairs, up into the West tower. As they climbed Bucky got glimpses of the nature of Abrareria through small windows. It was a beautiful day outside, the sky crisp and bright blue.

 

Finally, they reach a landing and Steve steps off the stairs instead of continuing even higher. “It’s something I think that will really help you settle into Abrareria, but I do want to say that…I’m not showing you this to make you love me. Or mate with me.”

 

Bucky froze. “What?”

 

“I don’t want you to feel pressured by this, if you see it and you hate me still that’s fine. We’ll go through heat and rut apart, and I will _never_ force myself on you, I promise.” Steve paused, hand on a door handle. “I just…I need you to hear me out.”

 

Bucky nodded, confused and feeling on edge. He felt like he’d crawl right out of his skin, as the heat bubbled underneath but wouldn’t break.

 

Steve opened the door and ushered Bucky inside.

 

It was just a room, simple and empty and unlived in. It was fancy, the bedframe carved intricately and the ceiling painted with many of Abrareria’s national symbols including the Great Abrarerian Eagle. But the air was stale and there were no objects anywhere to suggest anyone lived here. “What-“

 

“This is my childhood room.” Steve smiled, running his hand down one of the bedposts. “I spent a lot of time in here, being an only child.”

 

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Bucky asked, leaning faintly against the opposite bedpost.

 

“No…this is.” Steve thrusts open the dusty curtains and Bucky wobbly-kneed walks over to look. It’s a window, but what it offers a view of is more important. It’s Bucky’s kingdom, a rather good view of it too, directly at the main castle. He’d never realized Abrareria was so close, but it makes sense of course. He could always see their castle from his bedroom too.

 

“It’s my home. You’ve brought me here to make me homesick?” Bucky asks, feeling betrayed. He’d finally begun to feel less desperately needy for his brothers and his family and his room, and now Steve’s pushing it on him.

 

“No! No, I’ve brought you here because since I was very little, since before you were even old enough to know my name I sat here at this window and dreamed of you.”

 

“What? What do you mean, Steve?” Bucky hobbled back to the bed and sat down, feeling his temperature spike. The heat was almost here, within the hour probably. It was a particularly brutal beginning, this heat around, as if his body was punishing him for holding out so long.

 

“I mean that you don’t remember, and once the war began…our mothers were friends.” Steve sat down next to Bucky and took one of his clammy hands between his larger ones. He was so big and so broad and his scent surrounded Bucky like a confusing cloud.

 

“They were?”

 

“When you were born, I was there. They presented you to the kingdom, to the world. My Father led me up to your bassinet and I called you ‘wrinkly’.” Bucky laughed, with a tint of hysteria.

 

“My Mother said you would be mine, that she had sensed our connection. My Father thought she was crazy; he was sure you’d be a beta. But I knew…I felt it.”

 

“You felt it?” Bucky asked, gripping Steve’s hand tightly and wincing as the heat continued to bubble higher. He was sweating, and wet and hard.

 

“I still do. Always have.” Steve smiled, rubbing Bucky’s hand and forearm. “My Father forced our marriage in an act of war, but if none of this had ever happened I would still have wanted to marry you, Bucky.

 

You’ve always been my One.”

 

Bucky was frozen, overwhelmed by the processes erupting inside him and the emotions on top of them. His body was tearing itself apart, his heat desperately blurring his mind and making him want Steve regardless of logic.

 

“I…I need…my heat it’s here.” Steve nods tightly, not looking hurt but looking very serious. He helped Bucky up, his hands burning where they touched his bare arms. “Lets get you back to your room.” Even in his haze, Bucky noted that Steve didn’t call it their room.

 

* * *

 

For hours Bucky burned. His body fluctuated between freezing cold and blazing hot. No amount of fingers inside himself would satiate his body’s hunger. No orgasm felt good, bringing himself off just fueled the flames and hurt.

 

Chamber maidens brought him toys, but using them just felt empty and made it worse. The heat flared with personal rage, like it knew Steve was somewhere out that door and Bucky wasn’t with him. They helped Bucky change clothes, and bathe, and change his sheets, but every time he and the bed were fresh another fresh wave of heat would hit.

 

At some point in the night Bucky cried. He sobbed, and broke, and felt loss so deep he barely registered that his body was still leaking slick. He missed his family, and the bed felt too big without Steve and his body ached for more than just sex. It ached for Steve’s lips on his temple, for Steve’s hands on his, for being held.

 

In heats, omegas go through waves. In between these waves are moments of lucidity, and finally after about 10 hours of heat Bucky breaks his fever. Maidens clean him and change his clothing, and finally Steve comes in.

 

Even with his heat momentarily subdued he’s desperate for Steve, but Steve stays distant at the end of the bed only holding Bucky’s hand. By the grit of his teeth, the clench of his other hand and the sweat on his forehead Steve has either hit his rut, or will soon.

 

“Hey, how are you?” Steve asked, squeezing Bucky’s hand. Both of their hands were sweaty and clammy, but neither of them minded.

 

“Alright,” Bucky whispered, his voice creaky from moaning and crying the last couple hours. “Where were you?”

“Technically setting up my rut room and letting Sam and Natasha know I was going into rut soon, but really giving you space. I dropped a lot on you right before you went into heat, I’m sorry.” Steve rubbed Bucky’s hand between two of his own, the expression on his face warm and nervous.

 

“It’s okay. You love me?” Steve nodded, and Bucky was too tired to pretend like he didn’t believe it.

 

“I do.” Steve smiled gently, looking like home in the dimly lit room.

 

“Why?”

 

Steve’s quiet for a moment before looking back down at Bucky. “I just always have. From the moment I seen you, I loved you. But you’re also strong, and a much better prince than me, and I want to be around you always.” He looked down at their hands and then quietly said. “Do you think you could love me?”

 

Bucky gripped Steve’s hand as hard as he could, which wasn’t very hard. “I already do. Enough, for a start.”

 

“Why?” Steve asked, mirroring Bucky’s question.

 

Bucky closed his eyes for a second, his pelvis aching and his mind tired. “Because…you could have taken me, when my heat hit. We were alone, you’re my Alpha…you could have taken me but you didn’t.” He opened his eyes briefly and saw Steve’s sappy face looking overwhelmed.

 

“Would you hold me before the next wave hits, please?” Steve kissed Bucky’s hand, like he was a chaste maiden instead of a horny omega. Then he crawled up behind Bucky and pressed his hand over Bucky’s stomach, massaging gently. It didn’t help make him less aroused, but it did soothe the ache of several orgasms and Bucky lolled against Steve’s solid frame calmly.

 

* * *

 

 

After a brief nap, Bucky woke up to Steve hard against him and kissing his neck lazily in his sleep. “Steve,” He croaked. He kicked Steve gently in the leg, and then harder when the Alpha barely moved. His heat was building up again, slower than the initial start now that he had skin-to-skin contact with someone. “Steve, wake up!”

 

“Huh? What?” Steve snapped awake, lips leaving behind tingles on Bucky’s neck. “Is it starting again?”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky whispered, turning around to face Steve. “I want you to stay.”

 

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” Bucky begged, arching forward into Steve’s chest as the flames inside grew more intense. He was leaking, his body desperate to be really knotted, not pretend-knotted with toys. Even more than that, he needed Steve.

 

What was even better, and made Bucky more comfortable, was knowing Steve needed him.

 

“I love you, I’m going to take care of you.” Of course Steve’s dirty talk would be sappy, Bucky laughed to himself as Steve’s hands stroked over Bucky’s sides, rucking up his nightgown. “Can I kiss you?”

 

“Fuck yeah you can.” Bucky didn’t wait for Steve and slammed their lips together desperately. It was a thousand times more terrible and incredible than Steve’s kiss to his temple, light bursting behind Bucky’s eyelids. He felt the connection, felt Steve like maybe Steve felt him. Like they were each other’s One. They kissed gently, then roughly biting at each others lips. They kissed fast, desperate for each other’s taste as they rutted together.

 

They kissed slow, worshipping each other languidly, moving together in tandem like they were made for this.

 

Steve’s fingers trailed up Bucky’s feverish skin, pulling the nightgown over his head and separating them for a brief moment. Bucky moaned as Steve’s arms wrapped around him, pulling them together flush. “Fuck,” He threw one of his legs over Steve, lining them up against each other and gyrating. Steve brokenly moaned into his neck, sounding so beautiful and vulnerable.

 

“Fuck me, please.” Bucky groaned, turning over and pressing himself back into Steve as the heat rushed harshly over him. His brain was hazy with need, and his blood boiled. He could feel the heat coming off of Steve, their skin sweating and sticking together as his rut hit.

 

Steve jerked Bucky for a slow, painful minute and though his hands felt incredible, it wasn’t what his body wanted. His body wanted more, it wanted Steve to fill him. To finally claim him.

 

“Please…” Bucky begged, throwing his arm back around Steve’s neck.

 

“I’ve got you.” Steve positioned himself and pushed in just a little bit testing. Bucky’s body, wet and ready, opened for him easily. When Steve finally settled inside him, all the way, Bucky actually felt himself tear up at how incredible it felt. He felt complete. His body was screaming from all the stimulation and pleasure, finally finally for the first time in his life feeling whole.

 

Steve’s thrusts were steady and powerful, his hands pulling Bucky’s hips back into them. They pounded his prostate, and one of Steve’s large hands came up to grip the base of Bucky’s throat, bending him back and fixing the angle perfectly. Bucky couldn’t hold back, moans falling from his open mouth continuously as the flames of heat built and built and built until he felt like there was nothing to do but die.

 

If he had died, he would have been happy. To go, complete and in Steve, his Alpha’s arms, would be a blissful way to go.

 

Finally, after getting to the crest of an orgasm and coming back down three times, Bucky felt Steve’s knot growing and tugging at his hole. “Fuck, Stevie please. Please. I need you.”

 

“I got you, my omega. I’ve got you.”

 

Steve put his arm around Bucky, and grinded hard as his knot starting to lock them together. Bucky was on a tenuous edge, his body hanging on a wire and waiting for Steve to set him off. Finally, Steve’s knot popped in and Bucky’s vision went black.

 

He floated in Steve’s arms, feeling his alpha’s knot pulse inside him. He was so blissful, and his body was tired but sated.

 

“I love you, Bucky.”

 

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, Steve’s knot still deep inside Bucky and his ring on Bucky’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments much appreciated!


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